End
by Valerie E. Mackin
Summary: What would have happened if Duncan had never rid himself of the Dark Quickening? This story follows "One More Mark", but it isn't absolutely necessary to have read that story to understand this one. Re-posted. One-shot.


WARNING: If you do not know the storyline of the Dark Quickening episode, you might not get this story. Read my story One More Mark if you want to fully understand what's going on here. I know that was a blatant advertisement to get you to read my other story, but it really does help. This story follows my four others, but it only directly follows One More Mark. Please read End and review like a responsible reading-type person. I hope you aren't _too attached to Amanda. Have fun. _

Disclaimer: I do not own Amanda, Duncan, Methos, and any other characters from _Highlander: the Series mentioned in this story._

End

            The pain blazes through my chest, a slash of white-hot fire that burns my lungs. I know it will all end soon. My grip slackens as I lose control of my muscles, and my faithful sword clatters to the ground next to me; I watch it settles into the grey dust, and I remember the one who gave me that sword, the one who trained me in swordplay, in surviving the game, in life...Dead now, gone forever. 

            "The student outlives the master."

            If only that were always true. My own students, all of them dead at the hands of the man that now stands over me. Ah, Duncan, my love...You've been my constant, the chain that keeps me to this world, keeps from drifting away. And now that link is about to be severed. If it weren't for you, I've had no reason to stay here, to keep living for as long as I have. I've always loved you, far more than any of the others...I've loved you about anyone in my life, Rebecca included, like the true love you've always been.

            I've always used you....That kills me more than the final stroke that will end my existence. I wish I could tell you that. I've always used you, pulled you off and on like and old pair of gloves; I'd run to you whenever I would get into redouble and expect you to help me, expect you to be there to pick up the pieces of my shattered excuse of a life. And you always did. You were always there for me. You...you were my savior. Barely half my age, and yet you were still so wise and stable. You were my balance, my other half. Whenever I started to drift, you'd be there to pull me back. 

            But I guess the constant pulling is what finally drove you away from me, drove you over the edge. Yes, I think that's why you went after me in the end, once you'd killed all those I loved and held dear. Those that were left after all my bungling and mistakes, that is...So many already dead. Would it be so terrible to join them after all? Now that I think about it, though, would I even join them? Is there any chance in Heaven or Hell that I would end up in the same place as Rebecca? I was never a head hunter, I know, but I've killed my fair share...and all the thefts...the lies....the betrayals...and none of that even compares to what I've done to you. God, the pain I must've caused you over the centuries. So many times, I've only wanted to show you how much I love you, how much I need you, how little I would be without you. I just wanted you to be happy. That's why I always left you. Every time I came near you, you got into trouble of some sort, and I've nearly cost you your head countless times. I knew the longer I stayed with you, the worse trouble I'd get you into until eventually I'd get you...killed. But the pull to return to you was too strong. I just couldn't stay away. You're more addictive than morphine and more deadly than absinthe. Those deep, brooding eyes of yours...Staring into them was like falling down a bottomless cavern. And I would gladly take that plunge over and over. I could never stay away from you for too long.

            I remember the time one time you truly wounded me. But you didn't mean to do so. You've never meant to hurt me. It had been decades since I'd seen you, so I wasn't surprised to find you with someone. We were always apart for so long, it was almost impossible to not have relationships on the side. But this time was different; this time you were in love...true love. Before then, I'd always been your "one." You loved all the other women, countless women, but I was the most important, I was your worse half. But this time, when I came back, I found you with _her. And you were looking at her the way you used to look at me, with so much affection and worry and interest and sadness: in a word, love. I knew right then that nothing would ever be the same between us again. Despite the fact that she was mortal and __not me this woman captivated you, making you shine in a way I'd never seen before, in a way __I'd never been able to make you shine. When you were with her, you were more alive than you'd been in well over a century. _

            And then you lost her. Some strange incident with the Hunters, I was never clear on the details. Of course, I came back right away to comfort you, to be support in your time of need. But like every one of my returns in our relationship, I had an ulterior motive: I needed your help. I had lost Rebecca, my life was in danger, and the world was in danger. You comforted me, saved me, and saved the world. As always. But I was right.  After Tessa died, nothing was the same between us. Maybe we could've gotten back to where we were before, but I didn't want to put you through the pain and suffering any more. I think we could've worked.

            But then came the Dark Quickening. You began head-hunting, going after every immortal that crossed you found and every immortal you'd ever met. Richie was the first. Poor Richie; I used to tease him so much. If Joe had been able to stop you, maybe none of this would've happened. Maybe we could've done something to save you. But Joe's aim was off, and missed anything vital. You didn't die. Ten inches upward, and I might still have you. But he missed. And Joe paid for his bad aim with his life. Richie followed soon after.

            I hoped for so long that there was some way to help you, to bring back the old you. But hope is a dangerous thing; I learned that from Methos's mistake. The damned fool actually tried to help you. What I wouldn't have given to be there with him, or just to be the one that did save you. Despite his five thousand years of experience, though, the legendary Methos fell under your blade, like countless others before him.

            I like to think the last part of you that was the real you died with Richie. I can't bear the thought that you, my own Duncan, my boy scout, could be capable of killing so many innocent people. Rebecca, Fitz, Sean, Cassandra, Connor. And Connor was the worst. I watched you that day; I know you knew I was there. You killed your teacher, your kinsman! And the look on your face: no expression, save a grim satisfaction, like you were settling an old debt. That death, and all the others, I cannot forgive, so I try to make myself believe you had no control. But now I realize this is all my fault. I've driven you to this. All the other deaths I cannot forgive, but the truth is, it's myself I can't forgive. 

            And now I am here on my knees in front of you, waiting for the final stroke. I won't fight you anymore, wont' beg for my life. Even I have too much dignity for that. I gaze upwards at you, watching silently, waiting. I begin to wonder again what awaits me after this world. Sometimes I wish that Heaven didn't exist, because if Heaven does exist, then so does Hell. But then, the thought of everything just ending like that terrifies me. Was my life meaningless? Was there any reason to bother living for so long? Surely that can't be right. Maybe reincarnation has something to it. But then, do I really want to live a whole other life? Haven't I done that for centuries already, living one life, ending it, starting a new one, then going through the whole process all over again? It _would be a chance to start over with a clean slate, though...A fresh start. Maybe I would do a better job with that life than I did with this one._

            You hesitate. My eyes fly to yours immediately, searching for some spark of the man I love. Those deep, brooding eyes...

            Empty.

            You're not there any more, haven't been for several years. My most desperate hope and worst fear confirmed with one glance. I lost you a long time ago. 

            With a barely audible swish, the katana swings downward. The world slows down around me. A leaf nearby drifts ever so slowly to ground, landing just to the right of your foot. My eyes close, then open, tears pricking them painfully.

            "Forgive me, love," I whisper, waiting for the blow.

            Silence.

            The sword stops bare centimeters from my neck. Opening my eyes, I can see now that your hand is shaking. You watch me silently for a moment. An odd expression, almost one of pain, passes quickly over your features, but is gone just as swiftly. No matter, though. I know now what must, and will, happen. An odd feeling of peace washes over me.

            "I'll wait for you on the other side, my love," I murmur.

            You raise the sword once more, and I wince slightly as it flashes red in the setting sun. The sword descends. May be it's the wind, or even my imagination, but a whisper floats by me. 

            "I'll see you soon."

            A bolt of lighting, then darkness.


End file.
